


First Bloom

by lucifer (Noches)



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Smut, aromantic yuchan, but still a gay disaster, byeongkwan gay AND nonbinary, donghun and junhee are the source of their own misery, junhee is both oblivious and too aware at the same time, junhee is unlucky, lord so much miscommunication, mentions of past relationships - Freeform, nonbinary byeongkwan, sehyoon is the voice of reason, yuchan punches transphobes in his spare time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29112912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noches/pseuds/lucifer
Summary: Love presents itself in different forms. Because of that, each person has their own idea of it. Some believe in one chance at true love. Some think that they will never experience it at all. Some see it everywhere. Some want to finally settle and find it. Some prefer the platonic variety. Point is, love is seen—and felt—in very distinct ways, depending on who you ask. Well, Junhee is just about done trying, and Donghun is still struggling to open up.
Relationships: Kim Byeongkwan/Kim Sehyoon | Wow, Lee Donghun/Park Junhee | Jun
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Daffodil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daffodil, a flower ripe with meanings, but my favourite one is 'new beginnings'.
> 
> First I would like to thank my dear friend Aurum who made this possible. Thank you for the late night brainstorming and throwing in ideas you let me so generously incorporate and put a spin on them. Thank you to my dear betas Sea and Tate, for checking my ridiculous spelling and stylistic choices. Couldn't have dreamt up a better team than you three!

Days in Seoul begin to get colder by the day. It’s the middle of Autumn—and though this season has been rather mild so far, Junhee knows it’s better to hide the plants that usually stand in the front of his small, hole-in-the-wall flower shop, rather than letting them get frostbitten later on. The heavy clay planters prove especially difficult—the day before, when the florist was replanting his ginormous yucca in the apartment, he threw out his back, so his attempts to move anything heavier than twenty pounds, made him tear up a little. He must have looked very miserable because—

“Do you need a hand?”

Donghun is on his midday coffee run; he used to pick the coffee shop in the opposite direction from his tattoo studio, but it has since changed. Sehyoon likes to tease him about it—about the fact that he picks the worst coffee just to be able to steal a glance at the leather-clad florist with a pretty smile and intense eyes. It’s a curious sight, really; based on their professions, neither of them look like what people would assume. Donghun likes relaxed fits with softly waved hair; it’s vests and wide pants, earthy tones and quirky berets, pastels and headbands. Hidden underneath the fashionable clothes are tattoos and piercings, distinctly contrasting with his persona.

He asks to help out though, in shameless honesty, because he had been looking for a good excuse to talk to the florist for the past few months. And since the man is currently struggling with moving a heavy pot with succulents and decorative rocks—that kind of makes Donghun want to show off a little, and is there a better way to do it than by helping his crush?

“Sure,” Junhee replies, even before looking up, and when he sees the pierced and tattooed business neighbour, he couldn't help but to startle a bit. Not that he’s been unaware of his existence—quite the contrary. He’s seen him, of course; it’s hard not to notice the tattoo artist, especially when opening and closing. Donghun pretends not to notice the surprise in the florist’s eyes, and with the other's help, they move the ridiculously heavy planter inside the shop. Junhee sighs, massaging his lower back with a grumble.

Donghun looks around a little—he’s never been here before. He sees a well lit main room with shelves of potted plants on the sides. At the back of the desk, there are more shelves, though this time with cut flowers for arrangements. Right next there’s a door leading undoubtedly to the backroom. From behind the frosted glass, one can see someone moving around.

“It’s a really nice place,” he mentions, and Junhee is once again a little startled because—he really hasn’t expected him to have such a soft, gentle voice. “Can you recommend something for my studio? Something that’s easy to maintain?”

Junhee grinds this info for some time as if he has completely forgotten how to speak. Donghun awkwardly looks around again.

“Cactus.”

“Huh?” the artist asks in confusion, pulled out of his mindless staring.

“A cactus plant,” Junhee repeats, and then clears up. “For your studio, I mean. Perhaps… echinopsis?”

His eyes begin to dart around the shelves. “They’re hardy, and can take a lot… kind of like old friendships, you can leave them unattended and then pick up where you have left off.”

He speaks with his back turned, rummaging through various tiny cacti in equally small planters. He fishes one out, one that has the most potential to bloom. When he turns around he notices that the artist’s eyes haven’t left him for a second which is evident by how quickly the man looks away.

“Here,” Junhee says and hands him the plant in a rose gold tin bucket. “The prickles, aren’t they perfect for a tattoo studio?”

In truth, the florist is aware that the tattoo shop nearby is called Cactus Studios. This time it’s Donghun who’s left a little speechless. He gingerly accepts the plant and reaches to his coat pocket to take out his wallet but Junhee just shakes his head.

“Just take it, it needs a good home anyway,” he says and smiles, and when he does—Donghun feels his heart clench in a way it hasn’t in a long time. It’s bizarre. It doesn’t hurt, yet the sensation is somewhat unpleasant. As if his heart is already setting up for a failure and letting him know that he shouldn’t bother. Were these warning signs?

“Thanks,” Donghun says with a small nod. “I’m Donghun, by the way.”

“Junhee,” the florist smiles this charming smile of his and the artist’s heart does another somersault in his chest.

* * *

  
  


“Were you growing the beans for coffee yourself, or what?” Sehyoon asks, turning around in his swivel chair. It’s a slow day, so he’s a bit bored on his own. He smells the coffee and makes a face. “Did you go to that café again? Ugh.”

The co-owner eyes the small cactus that Donghun has set on the desk. All of their furniture is black so the rose gold accent looked pretty nice among the sea of monochrome tones between the floor, the walls, and the desk. Donghun doesn’t reply to either question, passing the paper cup to his friend instead.

“Well…? What’s going on with the cactus?” Sehyoon bites his bagel and stares at his friend, waiting for  _ some _ answers. Donghun sits on the other chair, sinking in the leather padding and ponders the question. Exactly… What  _ is _ going on with the cactus? “Did you finally manage to talk to him, then?”

“Kind of?” he replies. “It was… more of a weird, not even small, talk. I helped him carry a heavy pot inside, then asked if there is a good plant to keep in a studio, and he gave me this.”

He motions to the cactus, proudly sitting in the bucket.

“He… he has a very pretty smile. Pretty voice, too.”

Sehyoon watches Donghun sink even further into the swivel chair and puts away his lunch back into the paper bag; he cleans the crumbs off his hands and then faces his friend properly, or as properly as you can with a bit of cream cheese on your lip.

“Are you doubting your chances?” he asks, already knowing Donghun will not tell him the truth, so not to worry him overly.

“No,” Donghun indeed lies, looking away.

“Donghun, you know that you can love more than once in your lifetime, right? Love is not some… one-time special offer that runs out and then you can never feel it again, right? Don’t treat yourself like damaged goods,” Sehyoon says, reading his friend’s mind like an open book. “Let yourself fall.”

Donghun plays with his sleeve, revealing a bit of a tattoo he got a long time ago when his life was still innocently pink and bright. He has never regretted it, actually. Not even when it has brought back bitter memories—because the phrase wasn't even his own idea. The man sighs; it’s not like he doesn’t understand what his best friend is saying. It’s just that sometimes it feels like life gives you a limited amount of chances, and some come around unannounced and pass by without being recognized. Donghun has stumbled upon one, and ever since, he’s been running away from anything remotely close to love, or deeper than casual sex.

“There’s a reason they say you ‘fall’ in love. You don’t run into it, you don’t fly up to catch it, you fall, sometimes face down into the dirt. Let yourself scrape your knees sometimes,” Sehyoon continues his monologue. “Being passionately desperate is better than closing your eyes and hoping for love to show up.”

Silence falls upon the two, interrupted only by the buzzing of the air conditioner. Donghun runs his hand through his soft hair, warm bronze waves scatter around and then bounce back in their place.

“You’re probably right,” he admits.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Yuchan’s small apartment is filled with the smell of pizza and cupcakes. The man watches his friend paint their nails black with gel polish. They’re on the second coat now, making sure it’s opaque and even, before putting their nails under the UV lamp. He himself is just doodling mindlessly in his sketchbook, making up minimal designs with a pen.

“How does it look?” Byeongkwan asks, waving their hand in front of Yuchan’s eyes. “Don’t I look good in nail polish?”

“You look great in everything,” Yuchan admits with a laugh, though it’s a little forced. He’s nervous, for no good reason, really, about telling his childhood best friend about his sudden desire to change career paths. It’s not really a big deal, and Yuchan knows that he’s not going to be judged for it—still, it is a bit nerve-wracking.

Yuchan has been the first person Byeongkwan has come out to as non-binary. He appreciates the great trust his friend put in him by telling him, and nothing has changed between them—after all, Byeongkwan is just Byeongkwan, regardless of their pronouns or identity.

“Oh, that one is really cool!” Byeongkwan says, pointing to a small doodle of a smiling cactus Yuchan has drawn on the same page as the rest of the sketches. “Not gonna lie, I think it would look great as a tattoo, don’t you?”

“A tattoo? Why suddenly—” Yuchan wonders out loud, voice only slightly panicked. “I mean, yeah! I agree, but do you really want to put a random doodle on your body?”

“It’s  _ your _ random doodle, of course I’d love to have it on me,” Byeongkwan says, looking at their best friend incredulously. “Why don’t you poke it into me? Do you have something we could use?”

Yuchan stares at them for a little while, biting his lips a little. “Actually…”

He dives under the bed to take out a box with his tattoo supplies: a machine, sterile needles, inks, tattoo practice sheets, really anything that could be useful for becoming a tattoo artist. He’s a little apprehensive at first but decides to open the lid and show Byeongkwan what he’s been hiding. It’s all really basic, but he still has a long way to go when it comes to tattooing people. So far he’s filled many practice sheets with his designs but he’s never actually tried it on live skin. It’s both exciting and terrifying to have his first chance to do it for real.

“Wow,” Byeongkwan exclaims in quiet awe. “Didn’t you want to work in some company though?”

“About this… I really don’t think me in a corporate position is the best idea. It’s what my parents want for me but… you know how it is with parents, right?” Yuchan sighs. “They mean well but don’t quite get you sometimes… In any case, I have applied to a few different studios to become an apprentice and so far I haven’t heard back from anyone so I still haven’t told my parents I dropped the internship.”

“You dropped it already?” Byeongkwan asks, their eyes going wide.

“The boss was an incompetent asshole who kept dropping  _ his _ work on the interns. Like… I get it that you’re some cousin of the CEO or whatever, but at least do your job…” Yuchan grumbles, fists curling tightly out of frustration. “All he knew what to do was to show off his fancy suits and eat lunch at expensive restaurants.”

“He sounds like a capitalistic bastard,” Byeongkwan nods along. “But… you have saved up, right? You can pay for the next rent?”

Yuchan nods. He appreciates his friend’s concern, so he hugs them tightly, pressing a small kiss on top of their head. “I have some money put away so don’t worry.”

He begins to sort through his tattoo supplies and then goes to wash his hands; he puts gloves on before disinfecting Byeongkwan’s arm and then gets on with his work. He freehands the tattoo, careful yet confident with his strokes, and soon enough the small doodle is forever etched onto his friend’s skin. Byeongkwan doesn’t even flinch; it’s not their first tattoo, and they consider getting many, many more tiny ones, making their body into a statement piece. The two friends are silent, muffled rock music playing through a small Bluetooth speaker and the buzzing of the machine being the only things that make any noise. When Yuchan is done, Byeongkwan smiles, their eyes turning into cute crescents, happy with the final look of their new ink.

“So, have you found someone yet?” Yuchan asks, taking off his gloves and discarding them into the nearby bin. He puts away his supplies and sprawls on the bed, laying his head on Byeongkwan’s lap. Byeongkwan’s fingers immediately entangle into their friend’s black hair. It’s soft, smooth, and scatters around like a halo as Byeongkwan plays with it to stall for a little bit. The younger one closes his eyes while waiting for an answer.

They finally clear their throat, “Well… not that I haven’t tried…”

“Is someone giving you crap again?” Yuchan’s eyes snap open, concern evident in his frowned eyebrows and a pout threatening to form. “Do I have to punch someone out once more?”

Byeongkwan laughs, throwing their head back at the memory of that one fight in high school—it was Yuchan versus some raging transphobe who called Byeongkwan an unsavoury name. The younger one broke a finger on the guy’s jaw and ever since then nobody ever tried to start anything with Byeongkwan because they knew their friend would go after anyone who would hurt his best friend.

“It’s not that, honestly,” they say. “Just that nobody really made me do a double-take, you know? And I  _ know _ how you feel about finding  _ the one _ —”

Yuchan grunts and rolls his eyes. “I just think  _ the one _ is such a weird concept. There’s nothing wrong with exploring your romantic options but being happily single is not that bad. There are more people than just  _ that one person _ that you’re yet to meet, and even then, sometimes single life just suits you best.”

“But I’m a hopeless romantic,” Byeongkwan chuckles. “And I for sure don’t wait around, but I kind of want to settle with one person for a long time. I had my share of experience, now I just want someone to love me.”

“You don’t want to be horny anymore, you just want to be happy?” Yuchan quotes a meme, his voice profound as if saying some ancient proverb and it makes Byeongkwan howl out a loud laugh. They almost don’t notice the music turning off and switching to Yuchan’s phone ringing.

He reaches over and sees an unfamiliar number, so he wants to press ignore, but his finger slips and instead he picks the call up. He makes a face at Byeongkwan and clears his throat.

“Yes?”

“Is this Kang Yuchan?” the person on the other side asks.


	2. Amaryllis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> amaryllis—attraction, passion

A week after the phone call, Yuchan sighs a little before stepping in front of the studio. He truly hadn’t expected to get employed just like that—of course, his portfolio has been kind of impressive since he’s been building it for years, but from what he’s seen on the internet, it’s not that easy to get an apprenticeship in a tattoo studio, especially in Korea. Officially they are a design atelier, and so far they haven’t had any unexpected inspections—after all, they pay their taxes and everything. Still, Yuchan is a little apprehensive about working as a tattoo artist; it’s not a very stable job. He’s lied to his parents about working in a start-up company.

“You're here!” Donghun exclaims when he sees Yuchan open the door; he’s in his coat, and it’s apparent he’s about to leave the studio. “Sehni can tell you all the details and everything, I’ll be back in a bit since we’ve run out of tea. Do you like some sort of specific brand? I can get it for you.”

“Uhh…” Yuchan mumbles, unsure of how to respond. “I’ll drink whatever you have.”

Donghun nods and then lets Yuchan in, closing the door behind him. The young man holds onto his bag strap and looks around. It’s his second time here, the first being his interview. Sehyoon waves at him from his swivel chair and beckons him closer. Instrumental rock music fills the air, along with the smell of antiseptic and buzzing of the heater in the corner. Yuchan makes his way over and sits on the chair on the other side of the desk. It’s comfortable, if a little worn out; the leather squeaks under his weight.

“Do you guys have, like… a lot of customers?” Yuchan asks. Every time he’s been over, the studio has been empty, so he starts to wonder if it isn’t some sort of scam.

“Yeah, we have regulars and some new clients pop in from time to time, but it’s not like people come here from the streets,” Sehyoon explains. “Maybe it’s better that way…”

“You know, I was trying to find you guys on social media, but there is nothing. If you had an Instagram, you would get hella clout!” Yuchan says, getting excited; he pulls his phone out and shows his art account which has racked up a little over 300,000 followers.

“H-hella? Hella what?” Sehyoon glances at the phone and then looks back at Yuchan. Now it’s really evident—the generational divide. They’re not even that far apart in ages, but somehow… “What’s clout?”

Yuchan chuckles. Oh, to be more knowledgeable in something than an older peer… “Clout is like… popularity? Recognition. If you would put some of your inks on IG you might get big and get more customers. Maybe I should make the account? Do you have some old photos of your works?”

Sehyoon nods and points to polaroids hanging on a string of fairy lights (Donghun’s idea). Yuchan gets up and inspects the pictures; he takes a few of them down and then sets them in pairs on the black desk. His eyes land on the cactus plant, so he leans the pictures against the rose gold bucket and takes a few photos, all while Sehyoon is watching him sceptically. The young artist edits the photos a little so that they’re clear and pleasing to the eye; aesthetic if you will. His fingers are quick, tapping in the email for the account and setting a password. They brainstorm the name together and decide on a simple cactus_studios.

While they are busy with the profile, Donghun finally comes back with a bag from a convenience store, and… another plant. He’s holding onto the tiny succulent as if it was his emotional support buddy, cheeks pink, eyes a little hazy. Sehyoon glances at him and he  _ knows _ .

He doesn’t make a comment yet, not sure if Yuchan is an ally at all, let alone part of the community. He just raises his eyebrow, making sure Donghun catches the expression. His friend just rolls his eyes, his face saying ‘just leave me alone’. He sets the plant next to the cactus and then notices the scattered polaroids.

“I made an account for the studio, on Instagram,” Yuchan explains, gathering the photos and hanging them up again in their rightful place. “I think that way you might get more people to see your work and book appointments. I’m gonna give you guys a shoutout on my page to get you a kickstart. But first, let’s take a selfie together for our first post. Maybe let’s get people to know you? We can make an intro post for each of us?”

Yuchan is pumping ideas like crazy, the two older friends barely able to follow his thinking process. They just nod along, since it seems simple enough to do and if it means more people would get to see their art, then so be it. They pose together for a cute, approachable looking selfie and Yuchan posts it, adding hashtags and a small introduction. He then goes over and reposts the photo on his page, telling his followers to check out his new endeavour.

Soon they get a couple of hundred followers and Donghun looks at the count in awe. “That’s really cool.”

“Right?” Yuchan smiles cutely. He turns around when the bell over the door rings, announcing they have a customer and sees a girl enter; she takes off her coat, as if already familiar with the inside and waves at Sehyoon who waves back. She makes her way to the main room where all of the equipment has been set up and the sliding door is closed by Donghun. The youngest of the artists sits back on the chair and observes Sehyoon like a hawk, curious about him.

He seems to be very quiet and reserved, and maybe even a little unapproachable; it could have been the strong, yet attractive eyebrows that make Yuchan think that. Or maybe the snake bites, and tattoos covering his arms and neck. Not that tattoos make someone unapproachable, but there’s a certain vibe to some people, sometimes unintentional.

“What?” Sehyoon asks, his voice pulling Yuchan out of his thoughts. He shifts in his chair and clears his throat.

“I was just thinking… You guys do piercing too, right?”

“Yeah,” Sehyoon confirms and puts away his pen and sketchbook. “Do you want to get something too?”

Yuchan thinks for a bit, leaning back in the chair and eyeing the ceiling. It’s not like he can’t do it, right? First of all, he’s an adult, second of all, he’s not picturing himself working in  _ any _ kind of desk job, ever. And third of all, he can always take it out. Sehyoon chuckles, seeing the younger man so deep in thought, pouting as the cogs turn in his brain.

“You don’t have to rush,” the older one says. “In fact, you shouldn’t take this decision too lightly. It  _ is _ a body modification, after all. When you think of getting a piercing, or a tattoo, you have to think about a couple of things. Like, are you able to tend to it? Can you take the necessary time to clean it? Is your body okay with foreign objects? With inks?”

Sehyoon tugs on his collar and shows off a tiny scar right above his sternum. It’s barely noticeable, and Yuchan has to get closer to spot it, but it is there, nonetheless.

“I got a surface piercing done a couple of years ago and my body started rejecting it. I noticed a little too late and though nothing serious came out of it… It’s best to be ready for all outcomes,” he says and pulls the collar up again, straightening it neatly as it has been before. “But it was fun while it lasted.”

“How about a lip?” Yuchan decides.

* * *

  
  


Over the next couple of weeks, Donghun keeps bringing plants and flowers to the tattoo studio. A succulent here, a snake plant there, another cactus to sit on their design desk (“Donghun, it’s already too cluttered!”), and a yucca to place in the corner.

Donghun is holding onto a beautiful calathea when he enters the studio and Sehyoon points at him with his pen in an accusatory manner. “Not a step closer, or so help me!”

Donghun pouts and sets the pot on the floor. Sehyoon has a very hard time resisting the facial expression but he’s firm in his belief. He will not let Donghun be a panicked, useless gay, not in this household, not under this roof. He gets up from the main desk and walks toward his friend to face him.

“What did I tell you? Just ask for his goddamn number, take him out on a date, and make out with him! What’s so difficult about it?”

The older one looks away, his eyes wandering around the studio, avoiding Sehyoon’s gaze like fire. He rushes his tattooed hand through hair and sighs. “You don’t get it. I feel… like maybe I shouldn’t… shouldn’t get attached. Because it’s not going to work out anyway.”

“What makes you say that?” Sehyoon’s face goes softer as he takes Donghun’s hand and leads him to sit on the sofa.

“Last time…”

“Last time didn’t work out, but it was neither your nor her fault. It’s been years, maybe you can open up again? Or did the scar replace your heart for good?” Sehyoon asks, squeezing Donghun’s palm to reassure him. “I see how much it pains you to have this kind of crush. You’re making up excuses just to see him. Every day I can see you look through the window to catch a glimpse of him. Don’t you think it’s best to face it all head-on?”

Donghun shakes his head. “I don’t think I can.”

The two friends look at each other; they don’t even need words to understand. They’ve known each other for  _ years _ , they’ve seen each other in their worst moments, as well as their best. Blackout drunk. Broken. Sobbing on the bed. Yelling out of happiness. Laughing their asses off. Staying in serene silence… and so much more. They’ve been there for each other every step of this weird little journey they’ve unknowingly embarked on together. Sehyoon let Donghun crash on his couch when he broke up with his first love. He cleaned the blood off his face because he picked a fight after a night of drinking away the pain. Donghun was always there to catch Sehyoon. Every heartbreak, every disappointment, Donghun made sure Sehyoon felt loved and needed and safe, no matter the circumstance.

So now they stare, their eyes saying everything that needed to be said.

* * *

  
  


“That tattooed guy is hot,” Byeongkwan says, their painted fingers arranging a cute birthday bouquet that has been set to be picked up in a few hours. They’re really good with what they’re doing; quick, efficient and at the same time gentle enough not to hurt the flowers.

“Y-yeah,” Junhee mumbles, letting out a breath he isn’t aware he’s been holding. Is this how it feels to have your breath taken away? Because the lightheadedness is a little concerning to the florist and he starts to wonder what he’s been doing his whole life, chasing after people who haven’t made  _ that _ kind of impression. “Kwan, I think I’m in trouble.”

“Don’t worry, that’s just love,” they reply, smiling lightly. “There’s nothing wrong with a little crush. Love is fun! Love is… well, something new every time, right?”

Junhee turns around to face his employee; he leans on the counter and lets out another sigh, this one heavier. “I feel like you and I have completely different experiences with love.”

“Oh, I’m sensing a lot of heartbreak in your life,” Byeongkwan hums as if they’ve cracked the code. “So what is it? Comphet kicking you in the balls every time? Emotionally unavailable partners?”

Junhee briefly wonders if he should even reply. Truth be told, they’ve known each other for some time, and Byeongkwan has opened up about their issues and love life and whatnot pretty quickly, but Junhee has been more of a listener in those situations. He would throw in a piece of advice or two, but other than that… He ponders the thought—baring his soul maybe hasn’t been on the agenda today, but Donghun looks really good in a pastel green vest that pokes from underneath the fawn coat, with his cute grown out hair and a pretty beret. His eyes have twinkled like smoky quartz, shimmering in the sunlight pouring in through the window, and Junhee has felt as if the ground was about to swallow him whole. It’s been almost painful, to look at Donghun and know that all the thoughts and all the dreams were nothing but that—thoughts and dreams. Hopeless and useless.

“I’ve never heard an ‘I love you’ back in my life,” he admits, and slumps over the counter even more than before, deflating as the words leave his lips. “Isn’t it weird? I’m 26 and I’ve never had someone care about me enough to say those three words romantically.”

Byeongkwan puts away the finished arrangement and sets it on the shelf, before turning back to face Junhee. They think of the right thing to say. “I don’t think that’s weird. I know people who don’t say it because they don’t mean it. I guess that’s one way they care about the other person. My point is, professing your love is difficult. It’s hard to let yourself show your vulnerable side because it sometimes feels like it’s too much. People should say what’s on their minds more if you ask me.”

“At this point, I feel like I’m unlovable,” Junhee whispers, his heart hurting at the revelation. “Like maybe I’m not worth it.”

“See, this is not what you should think. There is no person that is not worth loving. But you know what’s better?... It’s not letting a confession determine your self-worth,” Byeongkwan says, fiddling with a pen they used for writing down details in their commission book. “Love isn’t everything there is to life, and basing your outlook on the number of people who said those three overused words is… kind of sad.”

“Not like I can really help it,” Junhee replies, heaving yet another sigh. The heart-to-heart has cleared his head a little. He looks at a small almanack with meanings of flowers—he knows them like the back of his hand, but Donghun is probably unaware… Somewhere in the back of his mind, a plan starts budding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always thank you to my betas Sea and Tate and my friend Aurum for support!

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on twitter lol  
> writing: @LUCIDMARES  
> stan acc: @taelican


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